CULPEPER, Va. 
Herbert H. Hash, the oldest living former Red Sox pitcher, died Tuesday,
according to the University of Richmond, where he played several college
sports. He was 97.

Hash died of
a stroke in his hometown of Culpeper, the
university's sports department said in a news release.

He played two
major league seasons, both with Boston, and compiled an 8-7 record with
a 4.98 ERA in 38 appearances including 12 starts. He was 7-7 with a
4.95 ERA in 1940 and 1-0 with a 5.40 ERA in four games, all in relief,
in 1941.

The oldest living
former Red Sox player is third baseman Billy Werber, who turned 99 last
June 20.

At Richmond,
Hash was a three-year letterman in basketball and baseball and he also
was a high jumper on the track team. He was a member of Richmond's 20-0
basketball team in 1935, and he
finished with a 13-4 record as a pitcher.

Hash was inducted
into the university's 1985-86 Hall of Fame class.

Hash is survived
by three sons, Herbert Hash Jr. of Boone, N.C., Randy Hash of Bluemont,
Va., and Happy Hash of Culpeper, Va.; and a daughter, Reva Hash of Culpeper.

Hash always
had soft spot for Culpeper Co.

By Shane Mettlen the Star Exponent

Published: May 22, 2008

To Herb Hash,
Boston was always home. But it wasnt the Massachusetts metropolis
 where Hash, who died Tuesday at age 97, pitched two big league
seasons with the Red Sox  that captured his heart. It was the
village of Boston, Va., where he built his home and his family.

I was born
in Boston, Mass., when my dad was pitching for the Red Sox, Herb
Hash Jr. said Wednesday. But Dad built a log house out on (Route)
522 and lived out there for close to 60 years at the old home place.

Baseball took
Hash away from home and out of Virginia. As a teenager he ran away so
he could attend Fredericksburg High School and play ball. He did so
well he went on to the University of Richmond where he was a four-sport
star, a member of the Spiders only undefeated basketball team in 1935
and was inducted into the schools athletic hall of fame 50 years
later.

After staring
in college, Hash got his shot at the big leagues. He started 12 games
for the Red Sox in 1940 and played with the likes of Ted Williams, Jimmie
Foxx and Dom DiMaggio. Hash was living a dream in Boston, but his heart
was back in the woods of Virginia. He spent his off seasons in Culpeper
County, cutting logs for his cabin home and courting Ruth Weaver. The
two would marry and have three boys  Herb Jr., Randy and Happy
 and a daughter, Reva.

Hash pitched
for the Red Sox again in 1941 and was a roomed with the famously cantankerous
Williams because, as Herb Jr. put it, he was just about the only guy
on the team that could get along with the Hall of Famer. Hash and Williams
bonded over Florida fishing excursions during spring training.

But Hash had
a lingering high school football injury that helped put an end to his
pro baseball career after two seasons with the Sox, finishing with an
ERA of 4.98.

If he hadnt
had the injuries, who knows how good he would have been, Herb
Jr. said. He was a pretty good hitter too and he might have pitched
for a long time.

Instead he came
home to Culpeper County and his log cabin. He was a teacher and a baseball
coach at Culpeper County High School and the principal at Salem Elementary
School. The baseball hero became a staple of the community, which is
why a steady stream of visitors have visited Happy Hashs house
the past two days, paying their respects and letting the family know
just what their father meant to the community.

He was
a stalwart, Culpeper resident Donna Boyd said. Boyd was a student
of Hashs and a classmate of Herb Jr. He was strong and he
didnt say something unless he really meant it.

He spent his
free time teaching his children to play sports and taking them hunting
and fishing in the woods near the house.

He started the
Hazel River summer camp for boys and kept it in operation for 10 years
with famous visitors such as DiMaggio occasionally dropping by.

He was
always a strong community person, Herb Jr. said. He would
do anything he could to help people in the community. We had people
come by to visit him in the hospital when he was slowly leaving us and
the people he had taught said he meant more to them than most people
would ever know.